WaT Falling in Stages
by Mariel3
Summary: Nothing happens all at once. Part 1 of the trilogy. JS
1. Default Chapter

Falling in Stages  
By: Mariel  
  
Stage 1  
  
Jack Malone looked up and swung his chair around slightly to face the young woman who, unannounced, walked briskly into his office. Blond, slender and attractive, the confident Samantha Spade had been on his Missing Persons team for more than a year. Her presence was welcome, if unexpected.  
  
"Hey," she said, plunking herself down in one of the chairs set in front of his desk.  
  
"Hey, yourself," he replied, watching as she stretched her feet out in front of her and slouched so that her head rested on the back of the chair. He smiled. "Make yourself at home," he said dryly.  
  
Samantha clasped her hands together and rested them comfortably on her stomach. Closing her eyes, she nodded, her smile of greeting still lingering. "Thanks."  
  
Not taking his eyes off her, Jack leaned his solid frame back in his chair. "Kerry Smith has been returned to the loving bosom of her family. You're done for the night. Shouldn't you be on your way home? Everyone else has gone, haven't they?"  
  
"You haven't."  
  
"No, but I'm the boss, remember? I have responsibilities, paperwork - and headaches without number."  
  
Opening her dark eyes, she held his gaze, amusement making her lips curve upwards. "Poor man," she sympathised - not very convincingly - before firmly closing her eyes again. "As it happens, I don't want to go home yet. It feels good to see this one turn out okay, you know? I want to enjoy it a bit before I call it a day."  
  
He nodded. Then, realising she couldn't see him, said, "Yeah, but why stay here?"  
  
"You need the company." Opening her eyes, she speared him with a dark look.  
  
One of Jack's eyebrows rose. "I need company?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Jack regarded her, surprised. The case, which had involved a girl exactly Hannah's age, had gotten to him more than he allowed most cases to. When Kerry had been located, he'd found himself almost shaking with relief. Samantha had been watching him carefully throughout their search for the young girl without comment. She obviously felt now was the time to talk. Why she felt it her place to do so, he had no idea, but he knew that she was right. As it seemed to have been right from the beginning, Samantha seemed to work with him under a different set of rules from anyone else.  
  
Into the silence left by his lack of immediate response, Samantha added, "That little girl wasn't Hannah, Jack. And you should be celebrating our success, not moping away in here. I think you need to talk about why the case affected you so much, so you can put it to rest - and I'm the perfect one to talk about it to."  
  
He remained silent. The awful thing was how right she was. He did want to talk. He did need company. Worse than that need, however, was the discovery he'd made over the past couple of cases that it was her in particular he wanted to talk to. He'd enjoyed the early months of showing her the ropes and watching her gain confidence and insight. He'd enjoyed discovering that she was one of the few people who didn't irritate the hell out of him when he was stressed. He also enjoyed the easy give and take of their conversations. They bounced theories off one another as though they'd worked together for years, and that was something to be valued. And, although he was a dozen years her senior, he realised he had long ago lost the feeling of being her mentor.  
  
He wasn't certain now what feeling had replaced it.  
  
Looking across his desktop at the woman who had so comfortably ensconced herself in his office, he surprised them both by saying impulsively, "If you're not ready to go home yet, why don't we go grab something to eat, then?"  
  
She opened her eyes. "Won't that make you late getting home?" she asked.  
  
He shook his head. "The girls are at their grandmother's. Marie has to work all weekend on a case she has coming up. She plans on being late, too."  
  
Samantha regarded him silently, then nodded. "Okay, then. I'd like that. Give me ten minutes to make myself presentable."  
  
Thinking she looked as good now as she had that morning, he nodded. Indicating with a wave of his hand the papers on his desk, he told her, "That'll work out perfectly. It'll give me time to sign off on these."  
  
True to her word, Samantha presented herself at his office door ten minutes later. Jack quickly placed the papers he'd been working on in a neat pile, ready for the morning, and rose. After throwing on his coat, they walked silently to the elevator.  
  
Travelling down to the main floor, he asked, "What do you feel like eating?"  
  
Samantha shrugged. "What do you suggest?"  
  
"This is New York. You can have just about any kind of food you want along any given block."  
  
"What haven't you had in a long time, then?"  
  
He looked at her thoughtfuly. Taking a chance, he asked, "Do you like Thai food? There's a place a couple blocks over I haven't been to in ages."  
  
Samantha smiled. "Then Thai it is."  
  
Jack held the elevator door open while she slipped out in front of him. They stopped at the front desk, logged out, and stepped out into a cool October night.  
  
-- -- --  
  
Samantha smiled at him from across the table. Conversation between them had flowed easily. They'd talked about the reason for the dinner out, but branched out into many other topics, both content just to sit and be away from work. Gesturing, she indicated the various plates of exotic food set before them. "I had you pegged for a linguini man. You know, bread and pasta. This is great."  
  
"Hey," Jack said, "I'll eat just about anything, and Italian is one of my favourites, but I caught onto Thai food when I was in the service and have never looked back." He looked at his watch. "I don't remember the service being this slow, though. Maybe that's why I stopped coming," he apologised.  
  
It hadn't been - he'd stopped coming because he'd always had to come alone.  
  
Samantha placed another to die for sauce-laden shrimp into her mouth, chewed, then said, "The food's worth the wait. I'd forgotten how much I love food spicy enough to make my eyes water!"  
  
"Most people don't," Jack said, a hint of regret in his tone. "Like really spicy food, I mean. I didn't expect you to say yes to this place. Usually when I mention Thai, people back off very quickly."  
  
She raised an eyebrow and deftly picked up another shrimp with her chopsticks. She had a fondness for Thai food, but she'd have been happy to have gone anywhere he suggested. She was hardly likely to tell him that, though. Whatever it was about him that she found so fascinating was eluding her, and she knew that observations that included her wanting to be with him regardless of where they were wouldn't help matters.  
  
She'd believed at first that she found his company attractive because she learned so much from him. Then she'd thought it was because with him, she never had to deal with the subtle - and sometimes not so subtle - opposite sex thing she often had to deal with when working with male counterparts. With Jack, she'd always felt confident she'd never have to worry about dealing with the discomfort of saying no to the inevitable "Would you like to go out sometime?" that so often spoiled a good working relationship.  
  
Now, there were times she caught herself wishing she was faced with that problem. So that she could say yes, she'd love to go out with him. Because she would. The idea terrified her. And fascinated her.   
  
Almost as much as the man himself.  
  
Later, coffee steaming in a cup in front of her, Samantha settled back into her seat and surveyed the small restaurant. There were a thousand like it spread across the city. Little hole-in-the-wall places, narrow and crowded and serving - at least in some of them - food worth waiting for. This one had the food to die for and a quiet, dark atmosphere she liked.  
  
"Bring me here again when we've had a case that ends as happily as today's?" she asked impulsively.  
  
"Ah, I've found a weakness," he teased.  
  
She grinned. "I didn't know you were looking for one, but yes. Play your cards right, and I'll show you many more!"  
  
She stopped abruptly. Her words, light and flirtatious, hung between them in air suddenly taut with something neither had expected. Unable to tear her eyes away from his, she found herself unable to decipher the change she saw in them. Finally looking away, she said, "That came out all wrong. I'm sorry."  
  
"Sam, we're off duty. I know what you meant."  
  
She smiled, relieved, but doubting that he did. Taking a sip of her coffee, she then set her cup down carefully. "This has been really nice. Thank you."  
  
"It's my pleasure. It was good to talk things over again. Sometimes, after a case like this, you want to share it with someone who knows what the heck it is you're talking about. I'm glad you came in tonight. This is just what I needed - not that I realised it until you waltzed into my office and announced it."  
  
Samantha felt herself warm under his appreciative gaze. "Good. I'm glad. That means I can hold you to another venture back here in the future."  
  
Sitting back so that the waiter could clear their places, Jack picked up the bill, then brought out his wallet. Leaving cash on the small tray provided, he rose.  
  
"Now that I"ve found someone as fond of this place as I am, I promise we'll come back. Now - how do you get home from here? Do I walk you to the subway, or hail you a cab?"  
  
Rising, Samantha allowed Jack to help her into her trench coat. "I'll take the subway, but don't worry about walking me there. It's only a block or so."  
  
"Which makes it a good way for me to wear off some of my dinner."  
  
She smiled at him, glad to spend more time with him. Coat buttoned up against the autumn air, she picked up her shoulder bag. "Then let's get going," she said.  
  
A blast of crisp wind warning of winter's approach hit them as they left the restaurant. Hunching their shoulders against it, both agents turned and began to walk towards the subway.  
  
Ten minutes later, they found the stairs leading to the underground. Samantha turned.  
  
"Thanks, Jack."  
  
He looked down at her, stifling the urge to take his hands out of his coat pockets and move a strand of hair that had blown across her face. Something had changed between them tonight.  
  
Something warm and enticingly dangerous.  
  
Something not to be acknowledged.  
  
"I enjoyed it," he admitted. Pausing, he smiled. "See you tomorrow."  
  
"See you tomorrow," she echoed.  
  
Turning, she descended the stairs. She knew without having to look back that he stood and watched until she was out of sight. The knowledge gave her a warm feeling she carried with her all the way home.  
  
End Stage 1 


	2. Stage 2

Falling in Stages  
By: Mariel

-Stage Two-

Six weeks after their Thai dinner, Samantha sat at her desk and tried to pull herself together. They had just finished a particularly nasty missing persons case. The missing teen had been found, cut up into a number of pieces, stuffed into several garbage bags, and placed in various park garbage cans. Officially designated a murder, the case had been turned over to the NYPD. It had been left to Jack and Samantha, however, to bear the news to the grief stricken parents.

It was one of the most difficult things she'd ever had to do, and she knew she'd carry the memory of their grief the rest of her life.

Feeling tears begin to threaten again, she put her elbow on her desk and leaned her forehead against the heel of her hand.

- -

Walking though the silence of office space darkened for the night, Jack quietly approached the soft halo of light surrounding Samantha's desk.

"Hey."

Swiping a strand of hair out of her eyes, Samantha turned and sat back. Regarding him with haunted eyes that showed traces of recent tears, she said in a soft voice, "Hey, back."

"Shouldn't you be on your way home now?" he chided her gently.

"Shouldn't you?" She paused, and then asked, "And haven't we had this conversation before?" A small smile rewarded him for his concern.

"I believe so." His face still serious, he hesitated, then asked, "Do you feel up to some Thai food tonight?"

She looked at him, then turned her face away. "I didn't expect this to bother me the way it did. I don't know why-"

Taking a step closer, he touched her briefly on the shoulder. "It's okay."

He knew from experience that going home with something like they had experienced that afternoon still fresh in your mind wasn't necessarily a good thing, and the thought of Samantha allowing this to eat at her filled him with worry.

She looked up at him again. "It's a little late, isn't it? Won't you be expected home?"

He shrugged. "Sometimes it's better if I give myself some time to absorb the end of a case before going home. I thought maybe you'd like some time to talk about it, too. Maria isn't expecting me until later."

Token concern for Maria out of the way, Samantha quickly said, "Then yes. I'd love to go. Not that I was in the mood for it, but dinner kind of gave us the slip today. Come to think of it, so did lunch. Give me ten, okay?"

He nodded, smiling at her attempt to deflect the real reason for his concern.

- -

Fifteen minutes later, they checked out of the building and walked out into a gentle, early December snowfall.

Settled in the same booth they'd been shepherded to their first time there, Samantha said, "We were supposed to come back when we were celebrating something."

"I think maybe we can consider this a multi-purpose establishment. Besides, I figured you could do with some company. This wasn't a good case for you."

She regarded him with large eyes he couldn't read. "Thank you. I know I shouldn't let myself get so involved, but-"

"Sam, it's part of the job. I just don't want to see you get too mired down in the bad side of what we see."

She nodded. Toying with the chopsticks set to the left of her place setting, she said, "You know, you're the only person I let get away with calling me that."

His expression showed his confusion. "Calling you what?"

"Sam. Everyone calls me Samantha. I insist on it."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know," he said, wondering when he had begun to call her that. She put up a hand. "No, no. The first time you called me Sam, it felt right. It's kinda funny." She couldn't tell him that it had made her feel special somehow. As though there was a unique connection that only he shared with her.

"Well," he said, "if it's any consolation, you're the only one who can walk into my office unannounced, flop themselves down into a chair and tell me I need company. I don't usually let people tell me what I need."

She grinned, remembering the occasion of their first visit here. "Hey, I got dinner out of it."

Jack nodded. "Yes you did. I don't know what got into me."

"And here we are again."

He looked at her with a gaze she couldn't interpret. "Yeah. Here we are again."

Again, they felt a delicious tension rise between them. They were interrupted from further comment, however, by the waiter. After a few moments of discussion, they placed their order.

When the waiter left, Samantha said tentatively, "I feel as though I've known you for a lot longer than I really have, you know that?" She tilted her head to one side and looked at him, her eyes soft. "It's nice, though."

He felt himself falling, and knew there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Suddenly shy, they both veered to topics less personal.

They said what they felt needed to be said about the case, and then moved on to other topics. Then, before they knew it, coffee was being served. Again, Samantha looked at her surroundings with satisfaction. Feeling oddly content now, she looked over at Jack and said, "I like it here."

Jack looked at the mish mash of gaudy decorations that covered the walls and every available shelf and counter space. "I'm hoping it's the company and not the decor," Jack teased.

This time it was he who regretted his impulsive words. "Or the food," he hastened to add. "Sorry. I didn't mean-"

"The company's wonderful," Samantha said. "The food, however," she said with a quirk of humour, "is to die for."

- -

Jack walked her to her subway stop. Shoulders hunched against the cold December air, they stood at the top of the entrance and, reluctant to call it a night, continued to talk.

Seeing Sam shiver, Jack finally gave in to the inevitable. "You're freezing, Sam. Time to go. I'll see you in the morning."

She nodded, then reached out a hand and placed it on his chest. "Thank you for tonight. I appreciate it."

Jack felt as though a small electric shock went through him at her touch. "It was my pleasure. I think we both needed to take our minds off things. Now go home, and have a good sleep."

"You, too." She smiled and turned to descend the stairs. Again, she knew he watched over her until she was out of sight. Carrying that comfort home with her, she let it play on her mind until she drifted into sleep.

End  
Stage 2


	3. Stage 3

Stages  
By: Mariel

-Stage 3-

Samantha observed Jack with dark-eyed concern. Glancing at the others gathered around the table, she wondered if they knew how much this particular case was affecting him. For a week now, he'd been driving himself and the team relentlessly, seemingly hell bent on bringing a missing son home. All leads, however, had led nowhere. As each person gave their report, she watched as his features tightened harder and harder until his face was nothing but an expressionless mask covering what she knew hid frustration and anger. In spite of initial high hopes, he'd once again have to report to a frantic mother that there was nothing to report, that no progress had been made. Worse, new cases would inevitably demand their attention, and she knew he'd then have to tell the grieving woman that they needed to devote time to those and pull back the number of man hours spent on searching for her son.

Meeting over, Jack dismissed everyone, but remained seated. Vivian, Martin, and Danny filed out. Samantha stayed at the table. Dark eyes considering him closely, she did not speak.

Examining the notes in front of him, Jack seemed not to notice her presence until, without looking up, he said, "I'm okay, Sam."

"No, you're not."

He put the paper he was holding down and rubbed his face tiredly. "I hate this."

She stared at him silently for a moment, then said in a soft tone, "Everyone's going home, Jack. You should, too." A beat, then she suggested, "Or we can grab something to eat and then you can go home. I know you didn't take time to eat lunch, and it's late to expect Maria to have dinner still waiting."

He paused a moment, weariness making his thoughts slow. Finally, knowing that being with her was all he wanted, he said, "Dinner sounds like a good idea."

"Of course it does," Samantha smiled. "Give me ten, and I'll meet you in your office. We'll go back to our Thai place. It's been months, and I could do with something that'll give my mouth second degree burns."

Pleased when her comment elicited a small attempt at a smile from her boss, she turned and left.

-- -- --

Arriving at the restaurant, they requested and got what they had come to think of as 'their' booth. Food before them, they talked about any and everything until coffee was served. While they waited for the bill, Samantha tilted her head to one side and regarded Jack with warm eyes. She noticed his features looked more relaxed, his posture less tense. "This seems to be a good place for us," she observed softly.

Jack nodded, thinking that it was more she that was good for him. Talking with her helped put things in perspective. The frustration and heartache caused by his not being able to help bring a son home was still there, but it was muted, and balanced by reassurances and practical observations that all that could be done had been done.

It was 1 a.m. before they left the restaurant and began their journey to the subway. Feeling strangely content, Samantha slipped her arm comfortably through his as they walked. Large flakes of snow were falling and covering everything with a thin layer of white. Looking up into the darkness, she watched as they floated down. Resisting the childish urge to stick out her tongue and catch one, she felt happiness flood through her.

Jack watched her. "You look happy," he said, thinking she looked beautiful.

Squeezing his arm, she said, "I am. It's been awful at work, but tonight's dinner changed my mood completely. I feel better about tomorrow." She glanced at him. "You have that effect on me."

Feeling better about tomorrow. He turned the words around in his mind and realised that she had that very same effect on him.

Jack slowed their progress to a halt. When they were stopped, he turned her to face him. She looked up at his expression and without thinking placed a gloved hand on his chest.

"I've spent time thinking about the effect we seem to have on one another," he admitted, suddenly overwhelmed by the need to have all the unspoken things that had been happening between them out in the open. This warmth he felt between them, this sense of closeness and belonging...it was new to him - and frightening and exciting all at once. This was not the simple attraction one felt after working with someone of the opposite sex for a while. Nor was it just lust or longing. He looked at her, searching helplessly for words to express what he was thinking and feeling.

While he looked at her, Samantha searched his eyes, reading in them some of what he couldn't find the words to say. What she found made her reach up and lightly touch her lips to his. Just as quickly, she stepped back.

"Jack, I'm sorry. That was-"

She had no opportunity to say more. Taking her arm, he drew her to him and slowly placed his mouth over hers.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she responded, mindless of where they were and how what they were doing would look to those passing. Their kiss deepened and she pressed herself against him, her body responding as it never had before to a man's mouth on hers. When they were both breathless, she tucked her head under his chin and pressed her forehead against his neck. "Oh, God,..." she whispered, wanting time to stop right then. Closing her eyes, she willed this not to be a dream. Willed him to not say anything that would take away any of what she was feeling. This, she realised, was what all these months had been leading to. This was what she wanted more than life. Him. His touch. His warmth pressed against her. When he was with her, she was home, and nothing else mattered.

He moved to release her, but she murmured, "No. Please. Just hold me a bit longer. I know you shouldn't, but please." She tightened her grip on him. "I don't want to let go."

His embrace strengthened and they stood in silence, snow gently falling around them. After a moment, she stepped back slightly, then leaned in to place her mouth near his. "Don't let's talk just yet," she whispered softly. Placing an encouraging hand against the back of his head, she drew him into another kiss.

Time passed. Jack slowly became aware of the deepening snow and the quickening wind. When Samantha shivered against him, he said, "You're cold. You should be going."

She looked at him, her eyes glowing with a desire that took his breath away. "It's not cold making me shiver, Jack."

Joy coursed through him. He had no right to be holding her on a street in the middle of what seemed to be the beginnings of a snow storm and feeling this happy, but he was. He had to stop, though. "It's getting late," he cautioned her. "The wind's picking up and the snow is getting heavier. You'd better be getting home."

She nodded, understanding. She wanted to savour this, think about it, mull it over for a while. Reluctantly, she withdrew her arms from around his neck. Looking up at him with eyes that hid nothing of what she was feeling, she said, "Good night, then."

"Good night."

They touched lips briefly, then he watched her leave, picturing in his mind's eye himself walking beside her. When she was out of sight, he turned and slowly walked away, his happiness wrapped tightly around him.

End

-Stage 3-


	4. Stage 4

Author's note: I almost forgot it was Monday! Here's the final chapter. Thanks for the interest - I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it! As always, merci beaucoup to Diane for the beta work. This is a little different from what she last saw, so if there are any errors, they're mine! Have a good week, everyone.   
  
Falling in Stages 4/4  
By: Mariel

-Stage 4-

Jack put the phone down and sighed. He'd gone straight home after seeing Samantha off at the subway station the night before, but once home had found himself unable to sleep. That hadn't surprised him. Like the wind-driven snow in the air outside, thoughts of the evening and his parting from Samantha roiled in his mind, refusing to be ignored. It wasn't long before he gave up on sleeping and rose, thinking he'd catch up on some paperwork. A look outside the window had made him decide that it might be a good idea to get in to work before the plows got too far behind the snowfall.

Now, safely ensconced in his office, the winter morning light just beginning to turn the dark sky grey, it was obvious the city wouldn't be opening for business as usual. As he'd predicted, the plows had lost their battle against the weather - even at 4 a.m., he'd found the streets impassable and had ended up leaving his car in a car park five city blocks away. Since then, heavy snow and high winds had continued to clog the streets with drifts impossible for commuters and taxis to slog their way through. Faced with the decision of trying to turn back and walk home or continuing on, he had opted to walk the rest of the way to the Bureau.

At around seven o'clock, his phone had begun to ring. Danny and Martin had both called to say they weren't sure how long it would take to get in. He'd told them not to bother trying, and given them the day off. After hanging up with Danny, he'd phoned Samantha to tell her the same, but got no reply. Next, he'd phoned Vivian and told her not to come. In the time since then, he'd paused from his work occasionally to call Samantha's number, hoping to reach her. He wondered where she was that she wasn't answering. He was lifting the receiver to try her again when a wet and bedraggled woman leaned into his doorway.

"Hey. Up for a snowball fight?"

"Sorry," he said, relief that she was safe flooding over him, "I've given them up. I always lose."

"Then I'm sorry I didn't bring a snowball or two up with me!" she grinned. "Sorry I'm late, by the way. I left the apartment an hour earlier than usual, but it's murder out there. Where is everyone?"

Glad for her explanation, he told her, "Home, where they belong - and where you'd be if I'd been smart enough to call you earlier."

She looked at him blankly. "Home?"

"Sam, how many people did you see on the way here?" His eyes glittered with amusement. "There's a blizzard happening. The city's all but shut down. This building is almost empty. Everyone's home today. Take a look at it out there. "

"I don't have to," she said, taking off her snow sodden hat and shaking it in front of her. "I was out there, remember? It's not totally impossible, though," she said in her defence. "Vivian lives farther out, so I'll give her the benefit of the doubt, but Danny and Martin are just wimps." Brushing wet strands of hair out of her face, she said, "I'm going to dry off a bit. I'll be right back."

Twenty minutes later, she returned, her still-damp hair pulled back into a sleek pony tail, her face still rosy from the cold.

"God, there must be four feet of snow out there," she said, slumping into a chair.

"And you walked through it just to be here? I'm impressed."

"You should be. My dedication knows no bounds."

"Obviously."

"So we're the only ones here?"

He nodded.

"Two peas in a pod," she grinned. "So what do we do? Old cases?"

"You could go home."

She crossed one long leg over the other and settled back even more. "So could you," she shot back. "But I'm here now, and I'll be damned if I'm going out in that again anytime soon. Do you have any idea what it took to get here?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. I had to leave my car in a car park and walk five blocks to get here."

"Huh," she snorted. "I woke up early, realised the weather was going to be a mess, and decided it'd be better to leave early and take a taxi here than it would be to try to walk to the subway station. I waited almost forty-five minutes for it to show up, and when it did, it was driven by a madman who drove like a maniac and barely got me a quarter of the way here before he drove himself into a snowbank. He was totally useless - you'd think he'd never driven in snow before, and I know damned well he has because his New York accent is thicker than the mayor's. Anyways," she said, waving her hands for emphasis, "I got out and tried to help him by pushing the car. That didn't work, so we tried digging the damned thing out, but as fast as we shovelled, the wind blew the snow back. I finally gave up and left him there. I'm sure he's there still. I found the subway, waited far too long for a train to come along, took it to my usual stop, and trudged through five foot drifts the rest of the way here." She stopped for breath.

Jack noted with amusement that her snow drifts had deepened by a foot since she'd arrived, but said nothing. Instead, he raised and then dropped his hands in defeat. "Okay, your story beats mine, hands down. I'm glad you could make it. And yes, you can pull out some cold cases. We've nothing new on the books today, thank God, and there's nothing we can do on the Gerald case until we can get out and interview more people."

"I suppose if there's not much to do today, it means the missing reports will come flooding in tomorrow," she observed.

He nodded. "So enjoy the quiet before the storm."

She smiled and rose. "Yes, sir."

He watched her leave. There had been no outward sign to hint of what had passed between them the night before, but it had been in the room with them, the memory of it pulsing through their veins and warming the air between them. Conscious of her presence in the room outside, he sighed and settled down to read the papers in front of him, doing his best to set thoughts of her aside. After all, they were at work.

-JS-

"It's noon. I'm hungry. Where are we going?"

Jack put down the file he was reading and looked up. "Where are we going?"

"Yes - where are we going? I'm hungry. You are, too. We've got to go out to find something to eat or we'll starve to death." Samantha placed her hands on her hips and regarded him steadily. She'd worked diligently all morning, always conscious of his warm presence only yards away. Now it was time to spend some time with him. With the weather outside what it was, though, she knew he would have to be goaded into leaving the premises."If you don't hurry, I'll have to hold you responsible for the consequences."

He shook his head and sat back to regard her with amusement. "You're going to have to do something about that tone. Some might call it downright insubordinate."

"Today there is no rank. We're marooned in an arctic world of ice and snow. Survival is our only concern, and food is an important component of that," she said flippantly. "And company," she added.

'And company' - the magic words. Jack rose and walked over to the coat tree. Picking up his coat, he said, "Then I guess we'll have to see that you get both. Explaining your death would be too much of a bother - the last thing I need is more paperwork. God knows if there's anything open, though. There's nothing here we can eat?"

"I've already tried the fridge in the staff room. There's nothing in it but science projects and one of Martin's sandwiches."

"Then we've obviously got to brave the storm. I still say there'll be nothing open. And you may still end up hungry."

Samantha smiled, sure that somewhere near a restaurant was waiting for them. Ignoring his warning, she matched his stride as they walked to where her coat was kept.

Jack watched as she removed her shoes and put on her boots, then helped her on with her coat.

Pulling her gloves and hat out of her pocket, she put them on. Looking up, she caught him watching her and joked, "Not elegant, but I'll be warm,' she said. She paused to look at him. "Where's your hat?"

"Real men don't wear hats."

"Then real men are stupid. And colder than they need to be." Wrapping a scarf around her neck and tossing the end of it over her shoulder dramatically, she strode to the elevator without looking back.

Wind gusted ferociously down canyons formed by tall buildings on each side of the street. Buffetted by a sudden blast of air that nearly took her off her feet, Samantha paused, thinking perhaps this had not been such a good idea. Jack, however, reached back and took her hand and the thought dissolved. Together, they trudged through knee-high drifts, past stores and restaurants with 'closed' signs in their windows.

After a block, Jack turned his back to the wind and yelled over the howling wind: "Are you sure you want to keep going? It looks like there's nothing open anywhere."

Samantha raised her voice and replied, "There's a Chinese restaurant just around the corner on the next block. Chinese restaurants are always open."

Jack shook his head, took her hand again, and resumed their trek.

Ten minutes later, they found themselves the only patrons of a small hole-in-the-wall Chinese food joint with an obliging red neon 'Open' sign in its window. Pulling the door closed behind them, they turned and stomped snow off their boots.

Choosing their table, they looked at the menu, made their choices, and settled in.

"Jack, your ears. They're bright red."

He held his hands over them. "It's cold out there."

"But real men don't wear hats," she snorted.

"We all have our failings," he smiled. "You look good with colour in your cheeks," he noted, feeling shy as he did so. 

She smiled, her eyes sparkling. "Nice to know some good came out of our arctic adventure."

When their food came, they spoke desultorily about the cold case Samantha had worked on that morning. It had been the first case she'd been on after joining the Missing Persons Bureau, and, as was the case for most agents with their first unsolved case, she had never quite given up on solving it.

Deep in conversation, they found that time flew quickly. They enjoyed their food, and felt their senses heightened by the other's presence. Once, when their hands accidentally touched, they paused. When the jangle of the door bell announced the arrival of others willing to brave the storm in search of food, Samantha looked at her watch. While the new arrivals stomped snow from their boots, Samantha said, "It's two o'clock. I think we'd better get back."

Jack turned to look out the window. The blizzard still raged outside, gusts of wind carrying sheets of snow skittering along the street. As he watched, a bluster of wind picked up snow from the top of one drift, tossed it around in the air, and then dropped it onto the top of another.

"You should probably go home, Sam. Nothing's moving out there but the snow."

"I left my keys at the Bureau, so I have to go back. I'll decide what to do once we get there."

Jack nodded. They rose, paid the bill, and stepped out into the storm once again. Jack automatically reached out and took Samantha's hand. 

-JS- 

Two hours later, Samantha stood in front of a window, hands on her slender hips. Seeing Jack's approaching figure reflected in the darkened glass, she said, "It wasn't supposed to last this long. Big storms never last this long."

Jack moved up beside her to look out at a dark world filled with swirling dirvishes of wind-driven white. "Weather report says it'll end sometime tomorrow."

She turned to him. "Tomorrow?!"

His response was cut short when his phone rang. Samantha remained where she was while he strode back to his office. Watching the storm, she wondered where she'd stay the night. The subways had been closed down an hour ago.

Jack returned. "That was Maria. I told her I'm staying here or at the Baltimore, if they have a room."

Samantha turned her head slowly and met his eyes. The desire to move towards him and continue what they had begun the night before filled her again. This was their chance. No more pretense, no more trying to ignore what was happening. She could feel his presence, feel his need meet with her own. She wanted to taste him again and feel his body pressed against hers. Adultrous as she knew their feelings were, she felt overwhelmed by them, and wanted, wanted so badly to just this once let go and love him and be loved in return. She forced herself to turn away, her heart beating with laboured thuds. They had said nothing today of the night before; it hadn't seemed necessary. Or wise. Looking away, she wondered with a tremor if that had been the way to handle it. Had she misinterpreted something? Was he regretting what had happened?

For a long moment, they stood together in silence, looking out at the storm. More conscious of each other than they had ever been, the air seemed to thicken so much it felt hard to breathe. Cut off from the rest of the world, their awareness of the storm faded as their awareness of each other heightened. Finally, Jack gave in to it and touched her shoulder.

"I'm going to try for a room, if I can get one." He stopped to swallow. Then, into the electrified silence that had followed his words, he asked in a low tone, "Do you need a place to stay?"

She turned from the raging world outside and let herself fall into the sudden calm that enveloped them when their eyes met.

No one would ever know. If it were to be just this once....

Her gaze never wavering from his, she nodded.

End  
Falling in Stages 4/4  
Okay. Strange place to stop, maybe. I'm not sure. I'm toying around with the idea of creating two more sets of vignettes, one about the deepening relationship of the affair itself, one about the stages involved in its demise. Sound like an idea, or just a waste of words? I need some feedback for this, if anyone has the time. Thanks to everyone who reads and reviews! -Mariel 


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